I’ve been putting up posts on dad recently as occasioned by Rep. Mark Meadows and Bev obtaining dad’s list of medals from WWII and the Korean War. Thanks to them again!
Anything about mom has been on the back burner, but definitely simmering. The reason for the CIA Evaluator guy asking about mom isn’t just because I’ve instead been posting a lot about dad, but rather because of something that happened following the message I left with CCS at Main State the other week (Tuesday 18 December 2018).
It was after that message about my “Shadow” that my “Shadow” called me up for a three hour phone call. At one point, beside himself, beyond so very many times saying that he was god-damning me and stating that I should be in hell forever, beyond stating that he wants to kill Jews, my “Shadow” said that my mom was a B****, if once, then a dozen times. She died in the early-mid 1990s. May she rest in peace. The rant of my “Shadow” was truly epic, the kind of thing that would be recounted in a presentation at the International Spy Museum by CIA shrinks trying to figure out what makes spies tick. During this call – which I’m guessing and hoping was recorded by CCS – I always maintained a calm voice and forgave the guy at the end, saying that I hope that he, instead, would make it to heaven. Does that mean I don’t care about what is said about my mom? Am I some kind of monster who is not offended when my mom is offended? Just how is it that I evaluate my mom? Isn’t she worth defending?
Sometimes I’ll be strong with people – certainly not, I confess, as much as Jesus cleansing the Temple – but I can use a calculated manipulation of my speech to bait reactions out of people who are being extremely offensive, but, mind you, as an effort to deescalate whatever untoward situation. Such things are purposely done ad hoc. I can only think of one situation off the top of my head for very many years indeed.
It’s just that I think that it’s better in the vast majority of cases to let people decompensate at least in their speech in lieu – hopefully – for whatever else is going on in their lives lest other things, much worse, take place. Besides, the more people talk, the more you learn what in the world is going on with them.
Anyway, the picture above, taken by some friends of my parents, goes back some thirty years. It’s winter time. Myrtle Beach. Dad’s birthday and mine (we were two days apart). Good times with both mom and dad. Everyone happy. I’m wearing a shirt and sweater they gave me as presents, of course.
As to the CIA Evaluator guy’s question about my evaluation of mom, becoming reflective, I simply said that she was melancholic and liked to read a lot. That’s me baiting him. After all, what kind of question is that about your own mom? Evaluation? That question is, in and of itself, monstrous. Love is much more than mind games of categorization of labels. Just. Wow. Baiting me, he immediately told me a story about a compulsive reader. “Compulsive.” Sigh… Such a baiting word. Why not just say she’s a B**** who has prostituted herself to books? This is my mom we’re talking about.
If you want to know what my mom and I thought of each other, take a look at the picture above. See the two foreheads together? That’s a kind of Vulcan mind-meld with no need for the finger-tip on the face thing for those who don’t have that experience. It’s a matter of the heart, escaping categorizations and dismissive evaluations as cold as ice.
Meanwhile, mom’s free hand on the one shoulder, dad’s free hand on the other shoulder. I’m totally the son of my mom and my dad.